


Yokai

by Dunblak_Vizgoth



Category: Japanese Mythology, Original Work
Genre: (not in that order), Cuntboy, F/M, Futanari, Multi, Other, femboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 04:49:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16078772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunblak_Vizgoth/pseuds/Dunblak_Vizgoth
Summary: Not all in this world, past or present or future, can be explained by logical means. Unnatural happenstance and odd occurrence flow throughout time with only a scarce few to bear witness. In the present one might call these events phenomenon or aberrant anomalies, but in the past they were known by a different term. Supernatural. For nothing natural could have constructed these events or things. Japanese folklore is rife with tales of gods, goddesses, demons, ogres, spirits, places and things beyond the imagination. This is one such story that occurred long ago. A tale of a sensuous summer night and an odd meeting.(WARNING THIS BOOK CONTAINS: feudal violence, descriptive gore, erotic evening between a femboy and a cuntboy, implied racism, and supernatural elements based on Japanese mythology)





	1. Glossary

**Author's Note:**

> This all began as a concept that popped in my head while watching anime (as usual). Aspects of yokai and humans and feudal Japan have always fascinated me personally. In my spare time I began to doddle with the idea, forming a character and a setting out of whimsy. Over time it evolved into a story in and of itself. If you did not notice before, I wrote this while I was hungry and craving Asian food (which Vizgoth made and spoiled me). Blade and Sheath is meant as a stand-alone story and not connected to any of the ongoing universes written by Vizgoth and I. The ‘Yamasaki’ in this story is not related to the real Yamasaki located in the Hyogo Prefecture to this day. It is a fictional setting for this story and something of my own imagination. As are all the characters and places within. Please note, my knowledge of the Japanese language is largely second hand and self-taught so forgive me if I construe things or insert the wrong character, etc. I told Vizgoth about the idea and my fellow conspirator gave (exploded) me a lot of interesting words as well as concepts to think about. It was with Vizgoth’s help I made this into a semi-historical fantasy. Time period for the story is centered around the late 1590s (Sengoku-Muromachi period bordering Tokogawa period). I tried to capitalize every specific Japanese word so they would not only be easier to identify but easier to look up in the glossary I assembled (with Vizgoth’s help). Without further ado, please enjoy.  
> Sub note: If something is annotated the 1800s or 1500s or whatnot, that means the dates will occur somewhere between the Christian calendar dates of 1800 and 1899 (if 1800s is given). However, if the date is annotated “in the 18th century” then it means that the event or whatever occurred was done some time in the 1700s between 1700 and 1799.  
> Italics are for thoughts, “quotations are for speaking”. CAPITALIZATION FOR GLOSSARY WORDS.

Glossary:

  * Amaterasu (天照), Amaterasu-ōmikami (天照大神／天照大御神／天照皇大神) or Ōhirume-no-muchi-no-kami (大日孁貴神)- A major deity in the Japanese Shinto religion and seen as a central figure of such. She is the goddess of the sun and viewed as ruler of the whole universe. Her siblings are Susanoo, god of storms and sea, and Tsukuyomi, god of the moon. Each was born from Izanagi as he washed himself after fleeing his former wife, Izanami.
  * Azuchi-Momoyama Period (1573–1603)- What could be considered the end of feudal Japan and the step into the modern age. With Oda Nobunaga taking territories through various means and other Daimyos doing the same, warlords and territorial squabbles were quickly becoming a thing of the past. It was a wild new frontier where lines were drawn in the sand. However, as the momentum kept churning Oda Nobunaga was assassinated by one of his allies (Akechi Mitsuhide). Amongst the scramble for power in the vacuum Toyotomi Hideyoshi rose to the top. He ruled most of southern and central Japanese provinces until his death in 1598. The Council of Five Elders attempted to fill the power void but the Tokogawa clan took power in the preceding years of the 17th
  * Daimyo (大名)- Feudal Lords of Japan with hereditary land holdings, samurai warriors, and vassals. If the Shogun was the king, the Daimyo were the noble warriors. Each had land that was passed down through paternal means or by extended marriage which would sometimes result in combination of two territories. While some Daimyo rose from the ranks of samurai most were born into their station.
  * Daishō (大小 daishō)- Literally meaning ‘big-little’, it is a term for the matched pair of traditional Japanese swords commonly worn by the samurai class. Though this was not always the case it is the most common example.
  * Danna- Traditional term for patrons of a geisha or geishas. These would mean providing or supporting the geisha through her training as well as her career. Personal or intimate relationships, while not entirely uncommon, were rarely a service provided by the geisha for the patron as it was never a contract obligation. Though the geishas could pursue the patron in this aspect of their own choosing, however such things would never be casual and always carefully considered. A status and good reputation as a geisha was never something to be squandered.
  * Dōsojin (道祖神?, road ancestor kami)- A generic name for a type of Shinto kami popularly worshipped in Kantō and neighboring areas where, as tutelary deities of borders, they are believed to protect travelers and villages from epidemics and evil spirits. Also called Sae no kami or Sai no kami (障の神・塞の神?), Dōrokujin (道陸神?) or Shakujin (石神?, literally: "stone kami"), they are often represented as a human couple, by carved male or female genitals, large stones or statues, or even tall poles along a road.
  * Ebisu (恵比須, 恵比寿, 夷, 戎); also transliterated Webisu (ゑびす, see historical kana orthography) or called Hiruko (蛭子) or Kotoshiro-nushi-no-kami (事代主神)- One of the seven lucky gods in Japanese mythology, he is also the “patron saint” (so to speak, as the ideas of western and eastern religion does not exactly correlate in a parallel manner). His origins are possibly linked with Izanagi and Izanami which resulted in him having no bones (or no limbs, the translations are not exact). However he grew them after being cast to the sea in a boat of reads. He grew “bones” and never lost his mirthful outlook.
  * Emperor Go-Yōzei (後陽成天皇 Go-Yōzei-tennō) (1586–1611)- The 107th Emperor of Japan according to traditional order of succession. He ruled from 1586 to 1611 and encompasses the Azuchi–Momoyama period to the later Edo period. The ‘Go’ in his name is something of a marker. His name could also be translated Yozei the Second because of this. Go (後) translating as ‘later’. Least to say he had an eventful life and if I spend any more time telling you about it you will not be able to get back to the story.
  * Edo Period (1603–1867)- The era of the Tokogawa’s rise to power and holding sway over the whole of Japan for the next few hundred years. It marks one of the great expanses into semi-modern society as there were few wars and the arts of Japanese society grew. The Edo Period ended with the Meiji Restoration and the fall of Edo.
  * Fuji Kuro-ishime (winded)- A type of Saya design
  * Geisha (芸者), geiko (芸子/芸妓), or geigi (芸妓)- Traditional entertainers of Japanese culture. They were not prostitutes and could be considered (by modern or western standards) as ‘hostesses’. They specialized in classical Japanese music, dance, conversation, and games as they typically served male customers. It was a rare occurance, but a Geisha could take a patron as a lover though whether they would be wed or not was another matter entirely. The Geisha grew as a whole in the later days of Japanese history (around 1700s). They became something of an ideal of more sophisticated and disciplined theme. Never the less, a renown Geisha was sure to garner respect from all those around her. A violation of such a person would be grievous despite being a woman of no ‘official’ standing.
  * Gekokujō- (roughly “the low oppress the high"), or a "disturbed social order”
  * Genkan (玄関?)- Traditional Japanese entryway areas for a house, apartment, or building—something of a combination of a porch and a doormat.
  * Ha- Sword edge
  * Hachiman (八幡神 Hachiman-jin/Yahata no kami)- Traditionally the god of war and archery in Japanese Shinto religion. However, he is not a ‘warrior’ as one might loosely characterize the word. It would be better to describe him as a ‘warrior poet’ or a ‘tutor of soldiers’. He is considered the guardian of Japan, the Emperor and house, as well as the Japanese people themselves. A patron deity of farmers, who worshiped him for crops, and fishermen, for bountiful nets. He is considered the main deity of samurai as they are a warrior class.
  * Hakama (袴)- A type of traditional Japanese garment that are something of a cross between a skirt and baggy trousers. Two types of hakama are divided umanori (馬乗り, "horse-riding hakama") and undivided andon bakama (行灯袴, "lantern hakama"). umanori have divided legs, similar to trousers. Both these types appear similar. A "mountain" or "field" type of umanori hakama was traditionally worn by field or forest workers as they are looser in the waist and narrower in the leg.
  * Hakozen (hakozen, 箱膳)- Small individual box tables much like waiter trays.
  * Hamon- Sword or blade temper line
  * Hanamachi (花街 hanamachi?)- A Japanese geisha district. The word's literal meaning is "flower town". Such districts contain various okiya (geisha houses) and ochaya (teahouses).
  * Hashi-jōro- Lower-ranking courtesans
  * Hashioki- Term for a chop stick rest in Japan
  * Haori- Overcoat
  * Hi- Blood groove or fuller in a sword.
  * Iaido (居合道 Iaidō?), abbreviated with iai (居合?)- A Japanese martial art that emphasizes being aware and capable of quickly drawing the sword and responding to a sudden attack. Iaido is associated with the smooth, controlled movements of drawing the sword from its scabbard (or saya), striking or cutting an opponent, removing blood from the blade, and then replacing the sword in the scabbard. Origin of the word cropped up in 1930s.
  * Inazami-no-kami (Izanami-no-Mikoto 伊弉冉尊 or 伊邪那美命, meaning "she who invites")- A goddess of both creation and death, as well as the former wife of the god Izanagi-no-Mikoto. Izanami died giving birth to one of her children (Kagu-tsuchi or Kagutsuchi- カグツチ the incarnation of fire), and her husband went in search of her. When he found her she was in the underworld ‘where the shadows hid her appearance’. Izanagi asked her to join him but she said she had already eaten the food of the underworld and thus was bound there. However, she would ask to leave. As she lay sleeping, Izanagi made light to see his once beautiful wife was a rotting corpse hidden in the shadows. He fled in terror to the distress and anger of Izanami. As he left the underworld, Izanagi blocked the entrance with a boulder. Beyond the barrier Izanami swore if he left her she would destroy one thousand residents of the world. To which he replied he would give life to one thousand and five hundred.
  * Ishiyama Kassen (Ishiyama Hongan-ji War (石山合戦, Ishiyama Kassen)- The Ishiyama Kassen took place from 1570 to 1580 in Sengoku period Japan. It was a ten-year campaign by lord Oda Nobunaga against a network of fortifications, temples, and communities belonging to the Ikkō-ikki, a powerful faction of religious zealots. It centered on attempts to take down the Ikki's central base, the cathedral fortress of Ishiyama Hongan-ji, in what is today the city of Osaka. While Nobunaga and his allies led attacks on Ikki communities and fortifications in the nearby provinces, weakening the Hongan-ji's support structure, elements of his army remained camped outside the Hongan-ji, blocking supplies to the fortress and serving as scouts.
  * Itadakimasu- A custom saying before eating food, ("I [humbly] receive")
  * Ito- Hilt wrapping, also called Tsuka-Maki. Although Tsuka-Maki could be the act of wrapping. I don’t know.
  * Ji- The blade surface above the hamon
  * Kagema (陰間)- Male Prostitutes. A historical Japanese term for young male prostitutes. Kagema were often passed off as apprentice kabuki actors (who were themselves often prostitutes on the side) and catered to a mixed male and female clientele.
  * Kagemajaya- Brothels and Teahouses specializing in Kagema
  * Kamuro- Young female students; in a brothel
  * "Kara iri" (唐入り "entry into China")- the first invasion into Korea under the name of Emperor Go-Yōzei. Also called Bunroku no Eki (文禄の役). It was known as “Kara Iri” because of the ultimate goal of the Japanese forces. Because Japan's ultimate purpose at the commencement of the invasion was the conquest of Ming China (kara iri meaning ‘entry into china’ 唐入り), although with the reality that the conflict was largely confined to the Korean Peninsula for the duration of the war, the armies of Toyotomi Hideyoshi would alter their immediate objectives during the course of the campaign.
  * Kashira (頭)- The kashira is a butt cap (or pommel) on the end of the tsuka.
  * Katana- Traditional type of Japanese sword typically worn by the samurai class in the ancient and feudal days. The katana is generally defined as the standard sized, moderately curved (as opposed to the older tachi featuring more curvature) Japanese sword with a blade length greater than 60 cm ( 23 1⁄2 inches). It is characterized by its distinctive appearance: a curved, slender, single-edged blade with a circular or squared guard (tsuba) and long grip to accommodate two hands. With a few exceptions, katana and tachi can be distinguished from each other, if signed, by the location of the signature (mei) on the tang (nakago). In general, the mei should be carved into the side of the nakago which would face outward when the sword was worn. Since a tachi was worn with the cutting edge down, and the katana was worn with the cutting edge up, the mei would be in opposite locations on the tang.
  * Kissaki- Sword point/tip
  * Komainu (also called Foo Dog or Lion Dog)- Guardian statues that come in pairs. They guard the ‘inner shrine’ or entrance to their shrine and/or temple. They are found in many Japanese shrines and temples dating back to the Edo period. Symbolically they are protectors of their property and wards against evil. However, Komainu statues are not always in the image of lions. Fox statues are seen around shrines dedicated to Inari.
  * Kōshi-jōro- High-ranking courtesans just below tayū
  * Kyoto (京都 Kyōto)- Formerly the imperial capital of Japan, it is located on the central island of Honshu as to what is now the Kyoto prefecture and head of the Kansai region. (Anything more and I would be writing a biography).
  * Maiko- Apprentice geishas
  * Menuki (目貫)- The menuki are ornaments on the tsuka (generally under the tsuka-ito); to fit into the palm for grip and originally meant to hide the mekugi.
  * Mitsu- Three sided. Also indicative of the number three.
  * Mon- Crest of a clan, family, or noble house.
  * Mon- Bronze coins used in currency, mainly imported bronze coins from China.
  * Mune- Back of the sword or spine.
  * Nakago- Sword tang
  * Nihonto (日本刀 nihontō)- Refers to one of several types of traditionally made swords from Japan. Swords have been made from as early as the Kofun period (250–538), though generally "Japanese swords" (nihonto) refer to the curved blades made after the Heian period (794–1185). There are many Japanese swords that differ by size, shape, use, and method of manufacture. The more recognized types of Japanese swords are the katana, wakizashi, odachi, and tachi. According to tradition, each sword has a specific length and classification. The three main divisions of Japanese blade length are: 1 shaku or less for tantō (knife or dagger), 1–2 shaku for Shōtō (小刀:しょうとう) (wakizashi or kodachi), and 2 shaku or more for daitō (大刀) (long sword, such as katana or tachi). Other types of swords by length are: Nodachi, Ōdachi or Jin tachi- 90.9 cm and over (more than three shaku), Tachi or Katana- over 60.6 cm (more than two shaku), Wakizashi- between 30.3 and 60.6 cm (between one and two shaku), and Tantō or Aikuchi- under 30.3 cm (under one shaku)
  * Nippon- Japan, or ‘Land where the Sun Originates’, ‘land of the sun’, ‘origin of the sun’. Also called Nihon.
  * Obi- Sash or belt
  * Ōdachi ( 大太刀 )- Japanese greatsword, sometimes over five feet in length. To qualify as an ōdachi, the sword in question would have a blade length of around 3 shaku (35.79 inches or 90.91 cm); however, as with most terms in Japanese sword arts, there is no exact definition of the size of an ōdachi. Practically speaking, the function/use of most ōdachi fall into the first two categories—as ceremonial objects and infantry swords. As battlefield weapons, ōdachi were too long for samurai to carry on their waists like normal swords. There were two methods in which they could be carried: One was to carry it on one's back. However, this was seen as impractical as it was impossible for the wielder to draw it quickly. The other method was simply to carry the sheathed ōdachi by hand. The trend during the Muromachi era was for the samurai carrying the ōdachi to have a follower to help draw it.
  * Oiran (花魁)- Courtesans in Japan. The oiran were considered a type of yūjo (遊女) "woman of pleasure" or prostitute. However, they are distinguished from ordinary yūjo in that they were entertainers, and many became celebrities outside the pleasure districts. Their art and fashions often set trends and, because of this, cultural aspects of oiran traditions continue to be preserved to this day.
  * Okaasan- Geisha teahouse managers
  * O-kazu (おかず or お数; お菜; 御菜?) is a Japanese word meaning a side dish to accompany rice; subsidiary articles of diet. They are cooked and seasoned in such a way as to match well when eaten with rice, and are typically made from fish, meat, vegetable, or tofu. Nearly any food eaten with rice can be considered okazu, though it is distinct from furikake, which is meant specifically to add flavor to the rice itself rather than to be eaten alongside rice. In modern Japanese cuisine, o-kazu can accompany noodles in place of rice.
  * Onnagata- Men who look like women whether in dress or in features, usually took part in plays or were prostitutes.
  * Otoko geisha- Male geishas
  * Quicksilver- Another term for mercury
  * Raijin- God of lightning and thunder, child of Izanami-no-mikoto and Izanagi-no-mikoto.
  * Ronin- Samurai who were either disowned from the house of their lord/daimyo or their lord died and no one would hire them.
  * Saya (鞘)- The saya is a wooden scabbard for the blade; traditionally done in lacquered wood.
  * Seiza (正座 or 正坐, literally "proper sitting")- One of the traditional ways of seating in Japan. Where one kneels and rests their back and butt on their heels.
  * Sengoku Period(戦国時代 Sengoku jidai, "Age of Warring States"; c. 1467 – c. 1603)- A period in Japanese history marked by social upheaval, political intrigue and near-constant military conflict. Japanese historians named it after the otherwise unrelated Warring States period in China. It was initiated by the Ōnin War, which collapsed the Japanese feudal system under Ashikaga shogunate, and came to an end when the system was re-established under the Tokugawa shogunate by Tokugawa Ieyasu.
  * Shaku- Form of measurement. Traditionally, the length varied by location or use, but it is now standardized as 10/33 meters (30.3 centimeters or 11.9 inches).
  * Shakujo (Japanese: 錫杖, shakujō; khakkhara Sanskrit: "sounding staff"; English: monk staff; Mandarin: xīzhàng, literally "tin stick")- a Buddhist ringed staff used primarily in prayer, or as a weapon, that originates from India. The jingling of the staff's rings is used to warn small sentient beings (i.e. insects) to move from the carrier's path and avoid being accidentally trodden on. In ancient times it was used also to scare away dangerous animals. Ringing also is used to alert the faithful that there is a monk within earshot in need of alms. In the Sarvāstivāda vinaya the khakkhara is called the "sounding staff" because of the tinkling sound the rings make.
  * Shamisen or samisen (三味線?, literally "three strings"), also called sangen (三絃?, "three strings")- A three-stringed, Japanese musical instrument derived from the Chinese instrument sanxian. It is played with a plectrum called a bachi.
  * Shinoji- blade/sword ridgeline.
  * Shinto (神道 Shintō)- kami-no-michi, or Japanese folk religion (among other names) is the ethnic religion of Japan that focuses on ritual practices to be carried out diligently, to establish a connection between present-day Japan and its ancient past. Shinto practices were first recorded and codified in the written historical records of the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki in the 8th century. Still, these earliest Japanese writings do not refer to a unified "Shinto religion", but rather to a collection of native beliefs and mythology. Shinto today is the religion of public shrines devoted to the worship of a multitude of gods (kami), suited to various purposes such as war memorials and harvest festivals, and applies as well to various sectarian organizations. Practitioners express their diverse beliefs through a standard language and practice, adopting a similar style in dress and ritual, dating from around the time of the Nara and Heian periods (8th–12th century). The word Shinto ('way of the gods') was adopted, originally as Jindō or Shindō, from the written Chinese Shendao (神道, pinyin: shén dào), combining two kanji: shin (神), meaning 'spirit' or kami; and tō (道), 'path', meaning a philosophical path or study (from the Chinese word dào). The oldest recorded usage of the word Shindo is from the second half of the 6th century. Kami is rendered in English as 'spirits', 'essences', or 'gods', and refers to the energy generating the phenomena. Since the Japanese language does not distinguish between singular and plural, kami also refers to the singular divinity, or sacred essence, that manifests in multiple forms: rocks, trees, rivers, animals, places, and even people can be said to possess the nature of kami. Kami and people are not separate; they exist within the same world and share its interrelated complexity. (Thank goodness for Wikipedia)
  * Shinzō- Senior female students of the pleasure trade, prostitution.
  * Shiraha- Sword blade, also called Nagasa.
  * Tabi- Toed socks. Traditionally white with only a toe slot for the biggest toe.
  * Tanuki- Japanese Racoon Dog, is a species of Asian Racoon Dog and not related to the North American Racoon. Under the name tanuki, the animal has been significant in Japanese folklore since ancient times. The legendary tanuki is reputed to be mischievous and jolly, a master of disguise and shapeshifting, but somewhat gullible and absentminded. Sometimes such characters are seen as Yokai, and other times seen as minor kami. It varies from region to region and story to story. However, these changes match the shapeshifting nature of the tanuki in lore.
  * Tayū- High-ranking courtesans.
  * Tengu (天狗, "heavenly dog")- A type of legendary creature found in Japanese folk religion and are also considered a type of Shinto kami or yōkai. Although they take their name from a dog-like Chinese demon (Tiangou), the tengu were originally thought to take the forms of birds of prey, and they are traditionally depicted with both human and avian characteristics. The earliest tengu were pictured with beaks, but this feature has often been humanized as an unnaturally long nose, which today is widely considered the tengu's defining characteristic in the popular imagination. During the 14th century, the tengu began to trouble the world outside of the Buddhist clergy, and like their ominous ancestors the tiāngǒu, the tengu became creatures associated with war. Legends eventually ascribed to them great knowledge in the art of skilled combat.
  * Tennō-zan no tatakai - The Battle of Yamazaki also called Yamazaki no tatakai. (山崎の戦い Yamazaki no tatakai) was fought in 1582 in Yamazaki, Japan, located in current day Kyoto Prefecture. This battle is sometimes referred to as the Battle of Mt. Tennō (天王山の戦い Tennō-zan no tatakai). In the Honnō-ji Incident Akechi Mitsuhide, a retainer of Oda Nobunaga, attacked Nobunaga as he rested in Honnō-ji, and forced him to commit seppuku. Mitsuhide then took over Nobunaga's power and authority around the Kyoto area. Thirteen days later, Toyotomi Hideyoshi met Mitsuhide at Yamazaki and defeated him, avenging his lord (Nobunaga) and taking Nobunaga's authority and power for himself.
  * Tsuba (鍔 or 鐔)- The tsuba is a hand guard for sword or other weapon.
  * Tsuka (柄)- The tsuka is the hilt or handle; made of wood and wrapped in samegawa.
  * Tsuka-Maki (柄巻)- The art of wrapping the tsuka, including the most common hineri maki and katate maki (battle wrap).
  * Tsuka-Ito (柄糸)- Tsuka-ito the wrap of the tsuka, traditionally silk but today most often in cotton and sometimes leather.
  * Uchigatana (打刀)- A type of Japanese sword worn by the samurai class of feudal Japan. The uchigatana was the descendant of the tachi and the predecessor to the Katana. The blade length of the uchigatana during the 16th century is said to have been from 60 cm to no more than 70 cm, with a stout sugata, a steep saki-zori, and it could be used as a one-handed sword due to its thin kasane (thickness) and short tang (nakago) making it relatively light. As opposed to the tachi, the uchigatana was worn edge-up in the belt, this and usually being slightly smaller than the tachi was the main difference between the tachi and the uchigatana. Since the uchigatana is worn differently than the tachi, the signature (mei) carved into the tang of the uchigatana is also opposite to the tachi mei, making the words still upright instead of upside down as when one wears the tachi in the manner of the uchigatana. Unlike the tachi, with which the acts of drawing and striking with the sword were two separate actions, unsheathing the uchigatana and cutting the enemy down with it became one smooth, lightning-fast action. This technique was developed in the arts of battojutsu, iaijutsu, and iaido.
  * Wagasa- Umbrella, typically made of rice paper and supportive wood.
  * Wakizashi (Kanji: 脇差 Hiragana: わきざし, "side inserted [sword]")- The 'companion sword' or short sword. The wakizashi has a blade between 30 and 60 cm (12 and 24 in), with wakizashi close to the length of a katana being called ō-wakizashi and wakizashi closer to tantō length being called kō-wakizashi. The wakizashi being worn together with the katana was the official sign that the wearer was a samurai or swordsman. When worn together the pair of swords were called daishō, which translates literally as "big-little". The katana was the big or long sword and the wakizashi the "little" or companion sword. Wakizashi are not necessarily just a smaller version of the katana; they could be forged differently and have a different cross section. Wakizashi swords were ‘backups’ or ‘auxiliary’ that could be used in close combat, to behead a defeated opponent, or commit ritual suicide (seppuku). One might theorize they were more popular than the traditional knife (tanto) because they had a longer reach while still being short of length.
  * Waraji- Sandals, specifically those made of straw.
  * Yari (槍)- A term for one of the traditionally made Japanese blades in the form of a spear, or more specifically, the straight-headed spear. Yari were characterized by a straight blade that could be anywhere from several centimeters to 3 feet or more in length. The blades were made of the same steel that traditional Japanese swords and arrow heads were forged with. Throughout history many variations of the straight yari blade were produced, often with protrusions on a central blade. Yari blades often had an extremely long tang (nakago); typically it would be longer than the sharpened portion of the blade. The tang protruded into a re-enforced hollow portion of the handle (tachiuchi or tachiuke) resulting in a very stiff shaft making it nearly impossible for the blade to fall or break off. Over time ‘yari’ became a general phrase for spear as more and more variations of the original yari appeared.
  * Yobidashi- Those who replaced the tayū when they were priced out of the market.
  * Yōkai (妖怪, ghost, phantom, strange apparition)- A class of supernatural monsters, spirits, and demons in Japanese folklore. The word yōkai is made up of the kanji for "bewitching; attractive; calamity;" and "spectre; apparition; mystery; suspicious". They can also be called ayakashi (あやかし), mononoke (物の怪), or mamono (魔物). Yōkai range diversely from the malevolent to the mischievous, or occasionally bring good fortune to those who encounter them. Often they possess animal features (such as the kappa, which is similar to a turtle, or the tengu which has wings), other times they can appear mostly human, some look like inanimate objects and others have no discernible shape. Yōkai usually have spiritual or supernatural power, with shapeshifting being one of the most common. Yōkai that have the ability to shapeshift are called bakemono (化物) / obake (お化け).
  * Yuukaku (遊廓 (ゆうかく?)- The regions in Japan where brothels recognized by the government are situated. In theory, prostitution was only legal in the Yuukaku region, but there were some places where prostitution was provided illegally
  * Yoshiwara (吉原) was a famous yūkaku, pleasure district, red-light district) in Edo, present-day Tōkyō, Japan.
  * Yūjo- A general description for women of pleasure or prostitutes.
  * Yunomi (Japanese: 湯のみ)- A form of teacup, typically made from a ceramic material, being taller than wide, with a trimmed or turned
  * Zori- Women’s sandals




	2. Story

A certain day winked past in the late Azuchi–Momoyama Period when Emperor Go-Yōzei sat on the throne. It was the time of blinding summer heat and the great Amaterasu deemed it fit that the mortals beneath her divine influence should be reminded of their earthly burdens. Or at least that’s what the Shinto monks wailed from their temples. It had not been a bountiful spring, nor a harsh winter, but the feeling of a blistering sun on their backs with few clouds in the sky was enough to send most men scurrying to the shade by midday. Thankfully the city of Yamasaki did not have to rely on the local crop.

The merchant city was a hub that connected North and South as well as having an advantageous position between port, mountain, and road. Merchants as well as tradesmen flocked to the small city, often taking up permanent residence in the settlement located in the only reachable divide in the mountain range that cut off the coast from the inland provinces. A local lord bearing the name of the lightning god himself was assigned to watch over this national way center, though he spent more time in his summer castle listening to his court than dealing with peasant problems. That duty was left to his general, a white whiskered man with one good eye and only part of his left arm as a testament to his time in battle. The general had the pitiable duty of keeping the city as clean as possible which mainly consisted of going off and making example of starving bandits.

It was the merchants who ran the city. Not a coin was passed from hand to hand without one of the major guilds hearing about it. They often employed cutthroats to keep unwanted pickpockets off the streets and the alleys near the markets free of diseased. The general was too wrapped up in his efforts to please his much younger and infuriatingly bored Daimyo to deal with any of the town’s business that he could not bother to lift a finger against the merchants. Only the keepers of the brothels and pleasure houses stood apart from the merchants. People of business themselves, they knew their trade was an essential gear that kept the mill of the city turning. They never once submitted to the merchants but had a long time understanding. Once a traveler, no matter how rich or poor, was done in the market he would be directed to the pleasure district. There one could admire some of the most beautiful geishas in all of Nippon, outside the capitol or Osaka that is, or bed a doll-like courtesan. Even the general’s men spent coin there, some in the women’s houses while others took the company of Kagema, as they drank away the summer nights.

Never the less, the city never had so strange a visitor as they did on that day. It was mid summer when the lone figure breached the outskirts. His straw Waraji kicked up a slight bit of dust that seemed to curl behind him, none daring to settle on his cloud white Tabi. Even the noon day sun seemed to have little effect on the lone figure. His patient stride never broke in cadence, a dark brown Hakama the color of forest wood rasping slightly. A worn blue Haori drooped over the samurai's slender shoulders in casual fashion and no Mon could be seen on his person. Perhaps an affront to all the turmoil that had begotten these past few years. His head remained unshaven and uncovered. Long hair the color of cherry blossoms flowed and curled in untamed pride from a single ponytail. Eyes the color of sapphires gazed steadily beneath long lashes and thin pink brows. A sharp face that one might describe as beautiful among men gazed with placid concentration, perhaps the samurai's most distinguished feature. A simple bag was slung over his shoulder and a folded Wagasa bound by several cords to the bag. But there was no mistaking the upturned curve of the sword and Wakizashi set as a deadly pair in his dark red Obi.

As he drew near Yamasaki tension could be felt in the air. The farmers in the fields never stopped from their work but whispers echoed on the wind. When the slender samurai had reached the first set of houses marking the edge of the city, word had already spread like wildfire of a lone figure dressed in shabby and insultingly casual clothing. No crest upon his shoulderless Haori and no bald plate shining in reflection of the goddess’s opulence. Not even a horse to carry him from one city to the next.

Never the less, business was business. The merchants would pick him of most his wealth before the end of the day. As the samurai reached the market he paused. Sharp eyes gazing over the various food stalls set up in the waving heat. Normally jovial sellers felt as if a cold chill had swept through their stalls, silent and unnoticed in the midday heat. Cutting like a blade through their clothing as the samurai's gaze went from one to the other.

He settled on a young woman's stand of fruits. Slender fingers sifted through various shapes and sizes, each skin different from the last. Mulling a deep purple plumb in his hand, he took several Mon from a sleeve pocket and paid for his food. A few more than necessary. The shop girl, daughter to the owner and heir to one of the more prominent merchant sections in the city, blushed deeply as the ignorant, or perhaps arrogant, samurai threw her a compliment over his shoulder.

Down the road he went, meandering wherever his feet took him. It was not long before his presence was deemed unwarranted by less savory men. Yamasaki was not a city accustomed to frequent visits by samurai. At least not ones who seemed as carefree as the cutthroats that were in the employment of the local merchants. The former soldiers and experienced bandits grew tense; their bodies coiling like the hackles of disturbed wolves. Ebisu did not smile upon the wanderer as one of the merchants deemed his vagrant appearance that of a sell sword, thinking to himself that no samurai would dress himself in such a degrading manner on full public display. Therefore, the man probably took the swords he wore from a battlefield. And a thief, a murderous thief at that, would not be tolerated in his area of the market. The swords would be confiscated and given to the Daimyo as a good will offering.  

A particularly ugly brute with one ear named Onnigaka stood in the path of the much smaller and shorter stranger. The muscled giant was flanked by two others, each carrying the deadly weapon of their preference. The large Onnigaka carried in hand an intimidating Ōdachi that was given to the big man to part horse and rider in half. The huge weapon was sheathed in black and gleamed with steel. No ornaments were to be found anywhere along its length. It was a soldier’s blade given to him only because he was the most effective to wield it. The men to his left and right carried simple Wakazashi, plain pieces of work crafted by an artisan under mass contract. Cherry blossom hair stirred slightly as the crestless samurai gazed up at the towering demon. Jewel eyes cut deep into those of the cavalry cleaver. No tremor nor hesitation. A beautiful face in placid peace.

Zen was the word the monks used. Complete calm in face of any and all things. Oneness was another word for it. Onnigaka, a veteran of Tennō-zan no Tatakai as well as Kara Iri, had seen the look before. In the eyes of dead men.

The giant named ogre glanced down at the samurai’s side. A toothy grin split his stone carved face. The pink haired wanderer carried a mismatched Daishō. Stolen orphans perhaps. The merchant would be pleased, and what made the rich man pleased also made Onnigaka pleased.

 _As the saying goes,_ Onnigaka thought to himself. _Transactions in hell also depend upon money. Too bad sword thief. What once was your reward is now mine._

“You, thief, have paraded your insults through this city long enough. Pay here or face death. I, Onnigaka of the Kuma, will strike you down!”

The lone samurai just looked up at Onnigaka. "I beg pardon?"

Onnigaka flinched, not knowing whether he had just been insulted or if the sword thief was really that ignorant. _Surely not._

As the giant loomed over the impudent he got a better look at the swords the wanderer was carrying. A Kashira shaped like a Daimyo's castle was intricately formed at the hilt. Teal blue Tsuka-Ito with traces of violet wrapped around the rayskin and wood handle beneath. What Onnigaka took to be cranes were placed as the Menuki along the handle. An Aoi Gata shaped Tsuba took the appearance of blooming lotus petals. A black Saya sheathed the biting blade from the world, the decorated wood in a Fuji Kuro-ishime style had subtle carved bamboo stalks with stretched leaves engraved along the sides. The Tsuka seemed to stick out further than usual, even if the Shiraha was of average length, putting the entire length at a little less than three Shaku Onnigaka wondered if this was due to the swordsmith crafting the sword with a longer than average Nakago. The sword thief wore the honored weapon in the traditional manner of the Katana with the cutting edge up so that the end of the Saya pointed to the ground. This would enable the samurai to quickdraw his weapon and cut in the same movement. A deadly technique if properly executed.

In contrast the Wakizashi the sword thief wore looked to be something dedicated to Hachiman or Amaterasu herself. The head of a roaring Komainu served as the Kashira. Teal green Ito covered the handle. A galloping horse could barely be seen as the Menuki beneath the wrap. The Tsuba was in the form of a curling dragon with spaces along either side of the handguard. The Saya was a simple black with a faded red and white Sageo still attached.

Onnigaka frowned. _What is a lowly sword thief doing with such elaborate, if mismatched, Daisho? Surely he did not snatch them from the hands of a Samurai. Perhaps he bought them himself. Damn little Joseon-men_.

The sword thief seemed to have taken little notice of Onnigaka's inspection and was staring up at him with the same blank look.

 _Perhaps he is actually a fool who just happened to pick up a pair of swords from different owners._ Onnigaka mused to himself. He gave a shrug then a smile. "If that is the case then I am sure no one will miss him."

Onnigaka moved his hand to draw his inordinately large Odachi but got no further than that. To all that were passing by or witnessing the scene from the sides never forgot that moment. Not the venders crouched behind their stalls. Not the lazy sell swords who only looked on with some interest in hoped of alleviating their boredom. Not the wives of merchants as they held tightly to their children, praying the wrath of manslayers would not descend upon them. Not the even watching eyes of the Yūjo and their fellow Onnagata failed to miss the gleam of master crafted steel as it hissed from the Saya.

The blade seemed to descend twice in one moment, once on the left and once on the right. As the big man brought a hand to his neck in puzzlement the pink haired stranger lunged forward, cutting across the giant's abdomen.

Only the wind stirred. Onnigaka stuttered and shuddered. Twin streams of crimson flowed down the large knuckles of his hand like water cascading down rocks. An angry red stain appeared at his side where the samurai had passed him. It was over in moments as Onnigaka's heart spat out his own lifeblood through his severed veins. The giant crumbled, knees giving out and arms slumping, till he looked like a statue. Only kept upright by the rigidity of his large frame.

Behind the slain cavalry killer, the samurai's beautiful face had not changed. He remained still and calm as if he was a tree. His Haori shifted only slightly with the wind. in spite of what had just occurred there was not a bead of sweat on the manslayer's brow, and only a faint trace of red on his blade.

The two other men hesitated. Neither had drawn their Wakizashi yet. They were sure that their former companion, a man of some renown amongst the common ranks, would have cleaved the wretch in two with his Odachi. Yet it was the slender sword thief who stood and the giant who had fallen. Was he really a sword thief? The way he moved, and how he stood now. So peaceful as if nothing had really happened at all. Surely he was much more than a simple sword thief. But no Mon was to be found on his person. He could be one of those Ronin who had lost their lord in the Ishiyama Kassen. Regardless, his blade was still out and menacing.

They could now clearly see the Hamon in a mixed Saka-Choji and Kawazuko-Choji pattern, writhing like bitter flames beat into steeled flesh. Between Ha and Hamon the metal was the color of quicksilver and seemed to dance along the flickering temper line. The Ji was a smoky grey. And the Shinoji back to the Mitsu shaped Mune was a carbon black. So dark the Hi was almost invisible. With the incredible speed he had shown the sword must be a drawing sword, an Uchigatana of light weight. If so, why was the Tsuka so long? The Nakago alone had to be at least one Shaku in length if not slightly less. A throw away blade the swordsmith tossed into the ash heap? Given the level of craftsman ship, both men wondered and grew agitated.

“Ah. I know this is not pleasant, but I pray you gentlemen take no offens-”

He spoke no further than that. The man on the left, an easily excitable man who was formerly a bandit, screamed as he rushed the samurai with Wakizashi drawn. The Ronin took up a firm stance, seeming to root himself in the ground he stood upon, and raised his sword level with his shoulders so the Kissaki pointed South along a straight, keen line. The onlookers wondered in what they perceived would be the final moments if the strange cherry blossom haired samurai would ever move or if he would be cut down as he stood still as a tree. However, as the former bandit was almost upon him, there was ripple as the stranger swept forward. There was a faint sound similar to the threshing of wheat as opponents passed each other.

The Samurai, stock still with blade straight out. Gleaming edge flickering like silver fire in the sunlight with taints of crimson. Both hands on the abnormally long Kashira.

The former bandit took several awkward stuttering hobbles before his head rolled of his neck with red oozing down the decapitated stalk. It tottered through several more rapid steps, as if wanting to journey to the eight hells behind its spirit, Wakizashi still in hand.

It was not until one of the Yūjo, a Shinzō of some experience, cried aloud. Buried deep in the wood post she had been standing beside was a gleaming blade, a clean cut shearing it from what would be the rest of the weapon. Wise eyes darted from the commotion to the corpse’s Wakizashi. There for all to witness was the remaining half of the blade. The same clean cut cleaving the Wakizashi in two.

The man who had been to Onnigaka’s right stuttered for a minute before scampering off. He did not want to lock blades with the man, samurai or not.

Calmly, as if nothing had happened, samurai walked over and cut the cleanest corner of fabric from Onnigaka’s Haori. With careful, almost doting strokes he cleaned the few flecks of blood that still clung to his Uchigatana. Then with practiced precision, slipped the naked blade back into its sheath with no more than a muted hiss. The samurai kept his pink haired head bowed for a moment, slender sword hand still resting on the lightning quick Uchigatana, as if in prayer for the deceased.

He raised his head, a slight smile on his lips, as if nothing had happened at all. He took several steps back and retrieved his bag and attached Wagasa from where he had dropped it. The dirt scratched beneath the soles of his Waraji as he slowly walked away. Behind him, new whispers began floating on the wind as flies started to flitter around the fresh corpses.

Down the road he went, occasionally taking a bit out of the fleshy plum he had bought. His white teeth tearing through the skin to the purple flesh beneath until all that was left was the hard pit. The samurai tossed the seed aside and set about looking for the nearest eatery. Following his nose, the pink haired swordsman managed to wander close to the Yamasaki Hanamachi before he found what he was looking for.

Brushing aside the bannered sign with a surprising gentleness, the samurai poked his pink head into the threshold. Inside his sapphire eyes perceived his hearts, or rather his stomachs, desire and in he went. Taking a seat in one of the empty booths, the samurai withdrew his Uchigatana from his Obi before taking the Seiza position and placing the warrior’s weapon beside him. The Wakizashi remained tucked reverently in his Obi.

A middle aged woman soon came to his booth with a servant’s smile. “How might I serve my lord this evening?”

The samurai smiled back pleasantly. “Please madam, you do not have to be too formal. I am merely a samurai wandering in search of certain things. Not a lord with a castle by any means. It would please me most to address me as you feel most comfortable.”

Shocked by the man’s words, the waitress nodded. “Very well then, how might I help you good sir?”

“Ah. I was hoping you might tell me something.”

“Anything, sir, anything.” The waitress noticed a slight lilt in the man’s speech. A slight trace of a Hitachi dialect if she were to guess.

“This city lies just a few miles from a busy port, yes?” Eagerness seemed to glow in the samurai’s eyes so that he looked like a child with a secret to tell.

“Indeed.” The woman began thinking of what the man might order but kept her ears open. “There is a port only a few miles from here. The merchants often come during the night to sell fresh caught fish and shrimp. Even mussels and oysters can be bought with regularity in almost any season.”

“Ah. That is good.” The samurai smiled. “Then could I please have some Tempura Udon with scallops, shrimp, and squid if you can? I will pay you in full what you think is necessary. However, if my order cuts into your stock please let me know. I would be more than happy to retract and let the cook make something suitable.”

The waitress blinked for a few moments. She was stunned that such a small person even if he was fit could ask for such a large quantity of food. “I assure you, my husband and sons will be more than up to the task!” She held her head proudly. “You sir will have your food in a moment.”

Smiling, the samurai nodded his thanks and handed the woman a thin, gold plate no bigger than a sushi roll in diameter marked with the official stamp of the Emperor’s mint itself. “For your trouble, in advance.” He said. “Could I also bother you for some tea if you have some? As long as it is not too much of a problem.”

A flurry of shaking heads and many thanks to the wandering swordsman, the woman scurried to the back where there commenced a great rumbling and clanging. Soon the air smelled of fresh cooking. Sharp shallots mixed with hearty broth and the persistent haze of cooking oil.

The waitress was back in an instant to place before her host a steaming clay pot of tea which she poured into a utilitarian Yunomi and ceremoniously as possible placing it on a saucer before the samurai. He only had time to nod his thanks before the woman disappeared again.

Several customers left and the noon time heat seemed to pass as the samurai waited patiently, sipping at the tea with both hands. Not to long after he had drained the Yunomi halfway the waitress came back with his food. As properly as she could, the woman set the food before her host on the Hakozen. The samurai gave his thanks and handed her another gold piece for final payment, telling her to keep whatever was left. Bowing in repeated thanks, the woman disappeared at the urging of her man.

Smiling, the samurai observed the masterpiece before him. The scallops and squid were both fried and waiting in the thick, dark broth amongst the finely cut greenery of herbs and shallots. Bean sprouts and daikon filled in color as well as adding flavor. The sizable shrimp had been fried, dried, and placed as an Okazu beside the deep bowl of Tempura Udon. Beneath the carefully placed scallops and squid were the thick, white Udon noodles he had been craving. The samurai inhaled the scents that rose up and felt the heat of the freshly prepared food.

“Itadakimasu”

Taking the offered chopsticks from the Hashioki in his right and the entire bowl in his left, the samurai tested the dish. Fishing one of the fried scallops out of the bowl he blew on it a few times before placing it in his mouth. Crisp feeling filled his mouth in content warmth. The wandering samurai smiled. The cook was worthy of being in the court of the Emperor himself if he crafted such fine food as this. But then perhaps he preferred his low occupation in serving locals and hearing them tell their tales.

He chuckled to himself as he dined. In truth he had asked for the dish to satisfy two of his hungers. The stranger was eager to try out Tempura that was fresh and in a town that was sure to have the right mix of fine dining as well as knowledgeable cooks. Secretly, he also wanted Udon because the noodles reminded him of spilt intestines as they floated in the dark broth, white as death. But he would not tell the cook or the waitress that. He would enjoy the meal he had ordered and leave when he was ready.

The sun had slipped past noon and begun its descent to the West before the samurai finished. In fact many a customer had come and gone as he simply sat in the Seiza position, contently sipping at his tea. The sky faded into lavish orange and purple as the samurai exited the shop with a wave of thanks to its keepers.

From there the wandering samurai trekked through the Hanamachi, watching the Geiko mingle about behind illuminated doors. The sounds of revelry and soothing music scratched at his heart but he knew it would not be satisfied. What he sought would not be sated by the mere presence of beauty, but the touch of it. Deeper into the pleasure districts of Yamasaki he went until he found himself in the Yuukaku. Still further he went to find the drink to quench his hunger. It was not till he had reached the front of a rather rich looking house that he felt that he could safely exercise his needs.

The Kagemajaya was a three story mansion that had a surrounding garden-lawn area and shingled wall twice as tall as the average man. Though as to whether it was to keep people out, or pretty things in was anyone’s opinion. Without hesitancy, the samurai walked in through the front gates after assuring the guards he had sufficient funds to enter. By the look in the men’s eyes word of his actions against the giant had spread fast. No sooner had he crossed into the Genkan and slipped off his sandals then the patron of the house, an Otoko Geisha of apparent experience who was a high ranking Tayū of an Onnagata by the look of the elaborate Kimono, greeted the wandering samurai personally. The stranger was showered with blessings and all the love a traveler could possibly be greeted with. He was subtly aware that this was one of the ways the patron was getting back at whoever had sent the henchmen in the first place. Welcoming the outcast son the merchants had rejected. He abided the overabundance of attention for a while before interrupting the seemingly ceaseless parade.

With both surety and etiquette that marked his status, the samurai managed to get the Otoko Geisha to settle down a bit. Using whatever dignity he had he calmly ordered a simple room overlooking the East side of the house; to the right side of the entrance coming in. He made sure to ask for a Onnagata Kagema of youth and talent, both in and out of the covers. But also to give the samurai time before the ‘young woman’ made an appearance.

The patron agreed with sparkling eyes that danced when the samurai paid in advance, lending out thick turtle scales of gold stamped with flower crest of the Oda clan itself. Summoning one of the house prettier house ‘girls’, the patron gave instructions to give the samurai their very best room on the eastern side. A suite on the second floor with large space, a small balcony to overlook Yamasaki itself, extra futons in case of capricious company, and fresh tamati mats placed in every half year. With the important and questionably wealthy guest occupied for the moment the patron set about trying to think of the perfect match for their wandering samurai.

There were indeed many who fit the general request he had given. However, it was in the patron’s capacity to ensure the frivolities of the evening would be both memorable and perfect. It all came down to picking the right flowers to fit into the vase. Each color had to set off one another in the right fashion. Shogi pieces that fell into perfect place. The clouds of heaven swirling around the great Amaterasu herself. A place and a time for everything.

The Otoko Geisha just had to find the right flower to accent the wandering samurai’s errant.

Spending several moments pondering the problem, the Otoko Geisha was saved by the bell. The soft tingling-tinkling of a cat’s collar bell as it huffed its way down the stairs. A matching ribbon adorned around the pail neck of a beautifully dressed Kagema.

The patron had found a temperamental cat to accompany the knight errant.

Quickly dressing the ‘girl’ in the best conceivable outfit, the patron sent the Onnagata Kagema up the stairs to the samurai’s room with her best wishes. Long straight hair, like a river of flaxen black, flowed from the Kagema’s head down to the waist where it was tied up with a ribbon of red. The Kagema was eighteen years of age and was officially recognized by the Kagemajaya as an adult. With eyes the color of dark jade the Kagema had attracted many a customer, both man and woman, since the patron took the Kagema in. A rich kimono of dark green with red and yellow flower pattern and swirls of white covered the Kagema’s form, which could hardly be discerned from that of a woman’s. Only the telltale adam’s apple now covered by a soft band ribbon and bell would indicate the true gender of the Kagema. Even though the kimono covered the Kagema’s girlish and soft body it could not hide the youth’s womanly hips that swelled out from a thin, cultivated waist.

Each of the ‘girls’ at the Kagemajaya, and even those in the other pleasure houses were careful of how much they ate. Too much luxury could devalue them in the eyes of their customers. It was not a matter of their house patrons, who encouraged the Yūjo to stay as healthy as possible, not starving their workers but a matter of the workers honoring their patron with service to keep the house open. The Otoko Geisha of this particular Kagemajaya made sure that none of the Kagema went too far in their menial food regimens. Never the less, more than one of the Kagemas often skipped a meal in favor of tea every day.

As the Onnagata Kagema shuffled up the stairs in toe covered Zori, a fellow worker followed behind ‘her’ carrying the practiced instrument of the requested Kagema. A Shamisen and Bachi, both carefully crafted by the best artisans in the region. Sounds of pleasure play and sensual touches could barely be heard, each room muffled with thick walls to give more private guests their independence. Never the less there were several off-hours workers that walked the halls in case there were any last minute needs. Or a fellow worker was in peril from a guest.

Taking the Shamisen and Bachi, the jade eyed Onnagata Kagema bowed to his fellow worker and knelt in front of the door. The attendant pulled the screen door aside and the Onnagata Kagema announced ‘herself’ and entered the room, the door sliding back into place with a solid ‘tonk’ of wood.

The Onnagata Kagema turned on his knees toward the samurai with eyes closed and bowed. “Good evening renown warrior, I am here to serve you this evening.”

Pink hair the color of cherry blossoms swayed like branched petals in the wind. The samurai’s back was turned to her with his tail of hair curled over the front of his left shoulder. His sharp, shrouded features only nodded in response. There was a hiss and the faint smell of oil on the air. The samurai motioned the Onnagata Kagema to his left and he took position by the opened doorway to the balcony.

The samurai, his sharp features soft and beautiful to behold even by the Onnagata, was busying himself cleaning and sharpening his swords. A wooden box laid open next to his bag and a foldable stand that already held the curiously prominent Wakizashi.

“What is your name, young one?” The man’s voice was kind and soft. Neither gruff nor rough with road dust. It was calm and collected as the man whom spoke, with a slightly musical lilt to it.

“Mitsuko my lord, ‘light child’. I am of my eighteenth year and considered of mature age.” The Onnagata Kagema replied with humility, still not looking up at the samurai.

“Ah. That is good. I am called Maki.” The samurai nodded his approval at the feminine youth.

He seemed to take time to fully appreciate his bed partner this evening. Sapphire eyes roving ever so softly over the nubile form accented by the graceful cloth that clothed ‘her’. Mitsuko’s unpainted face was a rarity in this trade but even the samurai could see that it would have ruined the youth. Heart shaped, with smooth and bountiful lips, eyes of hypnotic jade, skin the color of cream, and delightful little features that tickled the senses just to behold them. Truly a natural beauty.

“Do you, good sir, find me acceptable?” Mitsuko bowed only slightly with eyes closed. He had played this game many a time, each different but the same, and was cautious in use of mannerisms.

“Most.” Replied the samurai. A soft curl accented the corner of his mouth as mirth danced in his eyes. “Please, sweet Mitsuko, play something calm for us. A melody that stirs the leaves.”

Another test. Or perhaps an honest request. Mistuko would determine which in the moments to come as he took up Bachi and Shamisen. Gracefully pulling his long hair behind him, the bell at his collar tingled a little to mark the beginning of the act. Smooth strokes tickled the air as the twang of the Shamisen accompanied Mitsuko’s slight humming melody. It was far from a professional performance but by no means unbeautiful. And Maki seemed more than content to simply listen as he resumed his work, cleaning his Uchigatana with meticulous care as if it were his own child.

Mitsuko knew better than to interrupt the client’s business. Though curious, the Onnagata Kagema settled into his rhythm. His thin, nimble fingers danced over the strings. The Bachi was his fan as he made the room dance around him in festive delight. His unspoken hymn was the melody of thought. The enchanting music echoed through the chamber, the servant playing and the master working.

Diligently, the samurai cleaned and maintained his blade. With great care he removed each piece until the Uchigatanna was naked before him. Mitsuko also took care to look away, not to appear uninterested, but to concentrate on his music. Even the Onnagata Kagema knew it was unheard of for a samurai to tend his swords in a Kagemajaya let alone in public. Yet there was something mystical about it. The ritual, the tradition, the gleam of crafted metal as it was laid bare like a lover as the samurai faithfully tended to it.

It was in his slight musings that Mitsuko noticed the Sayajiri staring back at him. An angered and leering Oni with mouth full of tusks and teeth. A snarling nose and bulging eye. Swirling clefts to its chin and furrowed brow frowned in perpetual hate. The downward end posing wrath, always to the ground, as the Kashira stood looking to the sky as a Daimyo’s castle. Curious if not shrewd placement. But something about that glaring face bothered the Onnagata Kagema. He felt as if it did indeed looked at him with its metal eyes.

“Does it make you curious, Mitsuko?” The samurai asked as he continued his work, hands nor eyes never leaving the disassembled sword before him.

The Onnagata Kagema did his best to feign neutrality but was quickly failing.

“It does, good sir.” Mitsuko spoke, hands still dancing over the Shamisen. “Pardon my rudeness. Your swords are beautiful to behold, and your care for them twice so. One cannot help but to admire.”

A soft laugh from Maki. “I suppose you are right, youthful Mitsuko, I was being selfish. Please, ask then if there is something your heart desires so.”

“Your swords,” The Onnagata Kagema glanced as he strummed the bachi against the Shamisen. “They hold a presence like none I have ever seen or felt. It puzzles me. How can this be?”

Maki laughed and likewise glanced at Mitsuko, jade reflecting in sapphire, a soft smile on his lips. “Would you like me to tell you their names?”

He was surprised but also curious. “Only if the good sir would allow one such as I.”

“Very well.” Maki oiled the Uchigatanna. “This is 'Kubi Kamitsuku Hito’. He is quite elegant despite his nature and name. We met on the battlefield years ago and have not parted since, nor will we ever. It was quite the play between the two of us.”

Maki appeared to reminisce for a moment before continuing. “Kubi Kamitsuko Hito was born to battle. In a sense he is a brother of mine, though not of the same blood. But now we wander together, he and I.”

Nodding, Mitsuko could not help but feel strength as he looked upon the writhing silver flames. Truly it was a fitting name for the blade. From castle to ogre head it was a fearsome thing, this sword. Even Mitsuko had heard the stories swirling through town. How the brute Onnigaka had been cut down before this blade and then one of his seconds departing this world without a head. It frightened the Onnagata Kagema but he kept a beautiful face.

The samurai reached for the Wakazashi and began to slowly unfold its being. “If you will, your music is quite soothing. ‘Ketsuen Sureiyā’, this one is called.”

With a nod, Mitusko continued playing as softly as possible. Careful not to interrupt.

“A truly fearsome thing she is.” Maki worked the wrapping, then the ornaments, and then finally the handle off.

“May I be so bold as to ask how you came by-.” His voice faltered, Mitsuko knew he treaded a dangerous and narrow path.

Maki seemed not be bothered. “Despite her appearance, Ketsuen Sureiyā is not a blade of homage. Nor has she ever done a holy work or wielded for the cause of a god. She is of retribution and sown animosity. When I first met Ketsuen Sureiyā she was roiled in a pot of poisonous snakes, but she was the deadliest of them all. None could stand before her resentment. Sisters and brothers, she slaughtered them, just as she had her own family. Cutting them to pieces.”

“Ketsuen Sureiyā’s own family?” The Onnagata Kagema asked.

The samurai nodded as he cleaned the Wakizashi. “Indeed. Every last one. Ketsuen Sureiyā is almost as old as I. Her grievances are more inflammatory though.”

“Is Ketsuen Sureiyā from a famous school then?” Mitsuko asked, still strumming the Shamisen. “The gilding is quite extravagant. Beyond any that I have seen in this town.”

“One might say they are famous, but her home is no more.” The samurai finished cleaning the Wakizashi before reassembling and placing it back on the foldable stand, sheathed. “As I said before, she killed her family.”

There was a slight emphasis on the words. Yet Mitsuko could not help but feel he was missing something important. The words were phased as they were spoken, but there was an elusive thought behind them. Something the Onnagata Kagema could not reach.

As his thin fingers danced over the shimmering blade, Mistuko wondered if the samurai would pay as much care to him. Those delicate but dedicated movements. They entranced him. The Onnagata Kagema had known samurai in the past; he was no flower child. Each was different from the last. One a noble warrior who thought himself above his station. Another a kind but crude soldier. One thought himself a good man but was not. And yet another, one who had nearly taken his life while they lay together. However, Maki was different. Perhaps he was like the soldier. Kind yet lacking self-discipline. Or Mistuko could be wrong; Maki could be the one who hurt him.

Maki busied himself finishing his work on the Uchigatanna. “Unlike Ketsuen Sureiyā, Kubi Kamitsuko Hito has not been with me as long. He is still young. Prudent, but young.”

The samurai diligently reassembled his sword and sheathed it in its Saya before placing it on the stand next to the Wakizashi. He quietly stood, only to walk a few steps away from Mitsuko to sit at the balcony Genkan. Staring wistfully at the city lights, the samurai seemed content to listen to Mitsuko’s playing and melodic voice. And as Mitsuko did not want to disturb his clients mood, he kept playing. The eve and night quickly cooled as winds came in from the sea to clash with currents flowing down from the mountains. Tengu, Tanuki, and other beings now prowled the night.

With the thought, Mitsuko’s melody took on a melancholy tone. A slight tittering with deep strums of echoing contemplation. Maki sat without notice. Even the air about him swirled contently. His cherry-blossom hair stirred slightly and for a moment Mitsuko was reminded of spring. The Onnagata Kagema closed ‘her’ eyes as the music flowed through his fingers and his being. Only when he opened his eyes again did he notice how close the samurai drawn close to him, almost touching shoulders. However, the lounging Maki did not draw Mitsuko away from his playing. He let the song run its course through the night.

When Mitsuko finished he expected to be beset upon by affections. The wandering warrior and his blade cleaning hands pawing at the Onnagata Kagema like a hungry wolf. But the only signal the young boy received was the slight pressure of a slender hand at his back. He turned to see sapphire eyes warmly staring into his own. The bell tinkered as Mitsuko swallowed, his apple bobbing daintily.

It was an odd thing as they shed their clothes. Maki first removing his Haori and loosening the red Obi. Mitsuko could clearly see the samurai’s pale narrow chest and unblemished skin. If not for his formidable air then the warrior could have posed as one of the Onnagata residing in the house. But he rescinded the thought as he glimpsed the lithe musculature beneath. For though the samurai was thinner than most he was just as capable as Onnigaka. Muscles like cords of tight rope contracted and loosened beneath hairless skin. Bodies of muscle formed as plates of close-fitting armor as they overlapped without bulge to protect the precious organs beneath.

Maki’s hands were indeed rough. They bore the callouses of a swordsman despite their delicate appearance. Nimble as they were, his fingers eased the Onnagata Kagema into his embrace. Slowly the samurai unfolded one layer of cloth after another like a blossoming flower. Mitsuko in his meek splendor came undone and open before his nightly master. The boy’s pail shoulders, chest, and frame lacked Maki’s tight armor. His frame elegant and supple like a crane shrouded in downy garments. As the last layer parted, Mitsuko covered himself in mock modesty. His pink nubs almost blossoming themselves in the cool night.

The samurai likewise shed his shirt, revealing more of his slim-fitting armor, and his own nipples straining in excited anticipation. He nuzzled the crook of Mitsuko’s neck before placing a tender kiss. Two lovers embraced in counter-pose as the Onnagata Kagema curled an arm around to welcome Maki to him.

Lower garments parted to reveal the soft manhood that Mitsuko called his own. Shyly peeking out of nubby foreskin; a pinkish head peered up at the ceiling. He gave a small groan to feign embarrassment. Long fingers stroked delicately at the loose appendage in attempt to bring him to hardness. Mitsuko, finding that Maki was one who appreciated a fellow bamboo shoot in the forest, concentrated on rising to the occasion. In a few moments, his manhood stiffened and he was about to let out another fake exclamation when Maki’s other hand rose to gather Mitsuko’s left nipple between his fingers. The Onnagata Kagema gasped this time and blushed. To him it was still an act but this night it had become intimate.

Reaching stiff hardness, Mitsuko wondered in the back of his mind if the samurai would continue to tease him like this until he finished. Placated by the sight of a lesser man spilling his seed as he groaned only as a woman should. But it was not to be.

Maki released his grip on the Onnagata Kagema’s bosom to come around. With gentle hands he laid the boy down and spread his legs. Mitsuko had made sure to keep oil within reach. Costumers who preferred rough treatment of the house Onnagata were frowned upon as they could permanently damage inflow of other clients. He himself had only taken one such person and remembered that night as one of the most painful.

When offered the little bottle, the samurai accepted before applying it soothingly between Mitsuko’s rear. He spread himself to accommodate the questing digits. However, Maki seemed content only to pressure the tight hole and lather around the circumference. He drew back and loosened his Hakama to the Onnagata Kagema’s grim repose. Mitsuko prepared himself as best he could while Maki straddled the boy’s legs, his right over the boy’s left and left under the soft, dangling right. But as the curtain fell something altogether different altered the events of that fateful night.

As the loose pants dropped the world was put into paradox. Cleft hips and gentle curves greeted Mitsuko’s eyes. Instead of an unwashed manhood the opposite rested in its place. Virginal lips, unspoiled by any man and swollen slightly with excitement, covered over the flower petals that lay within. A thin, glittering strip of lush pink topped with a cherry blossom rested unnaturally but perfectly between Maki’s thighs. Completely vacant of hair or blemish. In an instant Mitsuko questioned his very being.

But the unnatural samurai gave him no time as he caressed the boy’s face. “Relax.”

Those slender fingers brought up stiff flesh and eased open flushed gates as Maki slipped himself down. Mitsuko arched at the feeling, gripping the floor for some purchase of sanity. As a child he was sold to the Kagemajaya to settle debts with his family. He had grown up among men who acted as women and who pleased others in such a manner. The boy’s shoot had never once delved into another person’s depths. His only pleasure was derived from what he received out of his own body.

“Hush now little one.” Maki’s eyes were tender as he held Mitsuko’s small head within him. “Do not be afraid of this. It is my gift to you.”

Mitsuko was not able to voice his reply as Maki sunk further as his passaged opened for the boy. The tight embrace shivered and caressed his immature manhood while Maki shuttled his hips back and forth. True moans escaped supple lips. Mitsuko could not longer keep up his act. The samurai took the Kagema’s delicate hands and drew them to himself, one on his rounded hip and the other to his left breast.

Maki gave an unmanly groan as the boy squeezed the softened muscle and unintentionally pinched the erect nub between his fingers. That beautiful face flushed a little as he rode the boy slowly. Each downward sway of his hips suckled Mitsuko’s shaft further into silken depths. Wetness flowed from his core like clear sap down to the samurai’s lips. He clenched and shifted around the Onnagata Kagema until the manhood glistened with his dew. Maki dripped his wetness onto the boy’s shaft and with feathered strokes polished it until the rod was coated in a clear sheen.

Before he knew it, Mitsuko was thrusting up into the samurai’s wet embrace as a man would. Maki took the boy’s enthusiasm with grace, meeting every driving blow with cushioned comfort. As Mitsuko twitched and whimpered, the samurai knew the boy would not last much longer. He threw his left leg over and around. Pulling Mitsuko up as Maki leaned back till his hard back hit the floor.

Legs splayed wide, Maki gripped fervently at the Onnagata Kagema’s flanks and ass. Between his fingers he kneaded the soft flesh with want as the samurai urged the pillaging of his odd flower. Nectar dripped out of the plundered cavern to drip down past a rosy clenched pucker and oiling the invading lance while it stuck deep within. Maki’s legs swayed with every strike of the boy’s sword. His toes clenched as he furrowed Mitsuko’s pliant cheeks with thin fingers; begging without words for the boy to drive in deeper. He gave moans a man would not ordinarily make and fondled his own breasts as a woman would. But he was not going to let Mitsuko forget who was the aggressor.

Likewise he withdrew a hand to knead the boy’s own bosom, twisting and tugging at the cherry buds expertly. Mitsuko moaned as a girl and arched into the touch. No matter if he buried himself in the flesh of a woman, he still acted as a woman himself. The boy’s body had been conditioned too long to remember anything else save this pleasure. And with the faint twitches of his manhood inside Maki knew the time was drawing close.

He snatched the oil from where it lay, popped the top, and let the contents ooze over his hand. Mitsuko battered into him with wet slaps as his delicate hips met the rounded but toned frame of the samurai beneath him. The boy was nearly lost in the ecstasy as wetness choked the invader only to suck it in further. His thoughts were interrupted by an all too familiar feeling at his rear.

Parting the succulent cheeks with one hand, the samurai delved gently against the twitching star between. Oil lathered around the entrance and the Onnagata Kagema moaned as a slender finger gently slipped in. While he battered the samurai’s hips with his own, the finger worked its way around to ensure comfort. Slowly circling until Mitsuko’s fleshy gate could no longer deny entrance. The boy felt hot and a sweet burning enveloped his body as light itself seemed to surge from his core.

The Onnagata Kagema had felt this before when men pressed into him and allowed their nightly companion to take pleasure with them. But this was different. This time he was drawn forth from the front. A needing, suckling want that clenched around him until the boy gave in. The samurai felt his own end coming, fire echoed from his core and his nectar squelched with every thrust. He squirmed a little. It was time.

Maki gripped his lover’s supple ass in desperate measure. At the same time the stray oiled finger thrust inward with calculated stroke to strike Mitsuko’s most vulnerable part. That fleshy lump deep within the boy’s bowls. As Maki’s finger struck, Mitsuko cried out his pleasure and buried himself into the churning depths. The samurai moaned and arched into the boy as he too was electrified by the moment. Sweet nectar slipped from his petals while warm seed spurted deep inside. Mitsuko bucked in his tight grip before quivering to a stop.

Exhausted from the unanticipated exertions, Mitsuko collapsed onto Maki. The flushed samurai smirked as he saw the boy had fainted. With care belying his dangerous nature, Maki slid the sweat slick boy off of him and pulled him over to the arranged futon mats. There he covered the Onnagata Kagema in his clothes to keep the boy warm.

Maki stood naked to stare out the balcony. Glittering wetness from his own sodden cleft mixed with traces of white oozed like sap between his thighs. With stilled movements so as not to wake the sleeping Mitsuko, he pulled on his garments and backed his sack. No other person in the Kagemajaya saw him that night. Not a one noticed him steal back his Waraji from the threshold. Maki stopped once by the balcony. He stole a backward glance at the beautiful, sleeping Mitusko. In haste he scrawled a note on rice paper and placed it next to his lover.

It read:

Hell’s hate born in blood.

When Humanity’s faith ebbs still.

Hope forever dies.

Maki laid a gentle kiss on the boy’s cheek, stroked the smooth skin one last time, and departed into the night. From roof to wall he leapt without a sound before departing into the night. Unseen and unheard.

Out into the country he went with his cherry blossom hair swirling ethereally behind. Maki giggled to himself as he left the city of Yamasaki without a trace. He passed the many rice fields where the fireflies glowed and a few stray farmers still worked to feed their families. None took notice of the fleeing figure. It was not until he had reached the shadow of the woods that Maki met an obstacle.

Seven men blocked his path into the shadowy forest and the dark road beyond. And with them, a priest wielding a Shakujō. Each man wielded either a sword or spear, and looked to be a part of the local militia. Though they bore no armor it would be difficult for the average swordsman to land a strike. Maki did not bother considering whether they were forced into the act or the priest had his own following. All that mattered was they lay between the samurai and his journey.

Steel eyes stared back at him. They would not let him pass either. The time for words and persuasion had gone long before Maki arrived.

The samurai squinted a little. Even under optimal circumstance this would be difficult. He would have preferred the sun behind him. However, the glow from Yamasaki would suffice. It would be his first move and assured first kill. The remaining five and the priest were to be dealt with as they came. Others had already seen Maki’s _Two Fangs and Vengeance_ as well as _Descending Mountain Wind_ in his duel with the one called Onnigaka. They would be watching for these two. Little the samurai could do about the circumstance.

Roaring, the first man charged with Yari extended. A perfect first victim. The samurai stood waiting as danger drew near. When the spear-head came within striking range he unleased the _Gilded Amaterasu._ Drawing Kubi Kamitsuku Hito with one hand, he caught the spear on the edge of his blade and, taking the Uchigatanna in both hands, swirled the blade as he lunged forward. The clockwise motion moved the spear haft out of his way while his own weapon was still point forward. He drove Kubi Kamitsuku Hito with edge up into the man’s chest. Wet suckling noises hailed the unnamed soldier’s passing, his heart pumping life blood as it was torn in two by Maki’s sword.

The _Gilded Amaterasu_ was intended to be for sword versus sword. However, it worked just as well against most weapons with long reach. Able to close the distance and strike while simultaneously deflecting the opponent’s chances of parrying. Maki only used it when the light was behind him as a preference as he did not wish to misstep and be left completely vulnerable.

Five others joined the first, leaving the priest mumbling through mantras. Maki shoved his first kill off and into the advancing opponents. Throwing him against a swordsman as he deflected a cut from another. He dodge to the side in order to keep his distance. If he let the spearmen surround him it would not fare well.

The samurai concentrated on deflecting attacks and ensuring he gave each one of his attackers small cuts. A spearman leaned too far into his attack. Maki burst forward with _Two Fangs and Vengeance_ , cutting twice at the man’s throat lightning fast then cleaving through his abdomen as he passed. The samurai quickly turned to decapitate a second man who carelessly left his neck and back exposed. Four remained.

In between the priest and three swordsmen, Maki began his attack strategy. He rushed into the trio while deflecting their attacks. An opening appeared, just a barest lift of a sword, and Maki kicked the exposed man hard. It sent the swordsman away from the fight leaving Maki temporarily with two opponents. As he met another, Maki locked swords for a second before slipping past. The samurai ensured Kubi Kamistuku Hito bit into the man’s forehead as they passed. It would not kill him but would give Maki an advantage. Head wounds bled more than most.

A deflection from his other opponent left Maki vulnerable and he leapt back to escape the hissing blade he knew would be coming to taste his flesh. However, just as the striking man raised his sword to follow the retreating Maki struck. An off balance lunge was not the best of tactics but it would have to do. Kubi Kamitsuku Hito cut clean through cloth and flesh to leave a growing red stain in his wake. The man he had kicked down charged at him with sword in front. Maki ducked and slashed upward to his right. He felt his Uchigatanna nick bone and then cleave through corded flesh. Ramming into the man to gain separation, Maki saw Kubi Kamitsuku Hito had found the man’s neck. It would be several heartbeats before he died. Two remained.

Mumbling priest and the man who he had marked. As the two swordsmen met each other in a clash of ringing steel, Maki began his _Fujin’s Tears._ It was the most suitable for the present moment and would give the samurai an advantage. With every stroke delivered a cut opened his opponent’s flesh. Individually they were small and inconsequential. Together they were paralyzing. As Kubi Kamitsuku Hito nicked leg, arm, chest, and head the keen blade opened the man’s skin and bit into the soft tissue beneath. Tendons strained and veins spurted out precious life blood. If the man did not seek a doctor soon, let alone continue this fight, he would collapse from blood loss. Death would come slowly to the swordsman. His upper and lower arms were already straining. Maki had cut into the muscles there and the extended use of his sword tore into the damaged tendons. Likewise his thighs quaked from the exertion.

In their individual duel, the pair had drifted to Maki’s right. The priest looked up from his mantra’s to see five able soldiers dead and the last dangling by his torn ligaments. If he did not act soon all would be for naught. Blood ran down the swordsman’s body as scarlet tears, oozing from the dozen cuts he had taken. The priest bellowed out the last rites of his incantation, swirling Ojuzu in one hand and thumping the ringing Shakujō once.

Maki’s face remained as passive as ever. He slipped past his dazed opponent with ease, cleaving head from shoulders as he went.

The Shakujō rang twice.

Kubi Kamisuku Hito was a flicker of sliver fire in the night. He struck the priest in his belly, just below where rib met breast, and lanced through until the sharp point burst through the other side. The Shakujō and Ojuzu fell from the priest’s grip. Metal rings chimed softly as the fell to earth below.

The priest choked and stared with rage filled eyes into glinting sapphires. “Bakemono.”

Maki twisted the castle with his palm rotating the blade within the priest’s stomach. He reached a full rotation before pulling out and down to his right, slashing as the he went. A bloodied chasm left in the Uchigatanna’s wake. The _Black Womb of Izanami_.

As the priest slumped to the ground, Maki whipped Kubi Kamitsuku Hito clean before sheathing the nourished blade. The remaining man had succumbed to _Fujin’s Tears_ and would be dead by daybreak.

Maki took a few steps past the fallen men before setting his sack down. Hidden by shadows, the samurai parted from his clothes. Stripping down before donning the vestments of a woman. As each layer was pulled into place, Zori, Haneri, light Kimono of intricate Manju-sage, Obiage, Obi, Obijime, and Obidome, Maki to changed. Sakura hair became a long waterfall of raven black. Sapphire eyes darkened to dusky brown. The once strong figure softened to graceful curves. Womanly breasts swelled to maturity beneath the cover of the Kimono. Beneath the folds of light, expensive cloth something unnatural stirred between Maki’s thighs. A turgid member of prideful length.

When the samurai spoke it was the sultry voice of a woman to match a likened face. “I might come back here in the future. Such a wonderful city. And the boy also.” A wicked smile flashed in the night. “Though for now, I believe I am late for the supreme commander’s parade.”

The one known as Maki stepped into the dark and disappeared along the road to the southwest. Kubi Kamitsuku Hito and Ketsuen Sureiyā were concealed carefully next to his Wagasa. Every trace of Maki the samurai who once visited the city of Yamasaki left down the road like a parting ghost.


	3. After Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you really want explanations for things, this is the place.

Samurai name- Maki (  真木  , 真 (ma) meaning "real, genuine" and 木 (ki) meaning "tree")

Onnagata Kagema name- MITSUKO (光子)- meaning 'Light Child' or 'Shinning Child'

 

Name for sword/uchigatana- neck biter 'Kubi kamitsuku hito' (首かみつく人)

Name for wakizashi- kin slayer ‘Ketsuen sureiyā’ ( 血縁スレイヤー )

 

 

Hell’s hate born in blood.

When Humanity’s faith ebbs still.

Hope forever dies.

– haiku curse given to Mistuko

 

 

Sword move names (in order of use/reference):

Two Fangs and Vengeance- The blade seems to descend twice in one moment, once on the left and once on the right. Two slightly diagonal up to down cuts along either side of the throat to sever the carotid arteries. As the opponent reaches up in futile effort to staunch the bleeding the attacker will lunge forward, cutting across the opponent’s abdomen.

Descending Mountain Wind- A powerhouse move that requires all the force of a body directed into one cut. One must have a firm stance and experienced musculature. Properly executed it can cleave through armor. As a further note of caution, this move was never intended to be a direct vertical cut. Only horizontal or downward diagonal are possible.

Gilded Amaterasu- Something of a parry that can only be used under certain circumstances. First, the opponent must have a longer blade than you. Second, the sun must be low behind you. Third, the opponent must have no or light armor. Fourth, the opponent must already have sword drawn.  If all these things match then one should be able to attempt the technique with proper training. It is intended as a draw cut, unleashing one's sword with one hand and quickly swirling the blade in a clockwise manner with both hands on the handle. Upon ‘catching’ the opponent’s blade with one’s own it is swept away by the clockwise maneuver while the attacker moves forward. The purpose is to time a horizontal thrust, edge up, into the opponent's chest as both swords come back up from the clockwise rotation. However, this must be perfectly timed and executed otherwise you are open to an attack from any side. Battōjutsu (抜刀術, battō-jutsu?) technique

Fujin's Tears- a move intended to blind an opponent as well as severely weaken him. This is caused by the lacerations that are made along certain points of the body. The effect is to “bleed” the opponent to death by cutting along certain artery byways, especially cuts to the face where the bleeding will affect vision. Because of the amount of blood flowing out of the opponent, the visual effect is that of bloodied rain or tears upon the body. Hence the name.

Black Womb of Izanami - stab, twist handle (requires attacker to let go and rotate handle with palm), then pull out and down with one hand as if slashing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

End note:

Hello to all, this is Dunblack. I really hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am sure some may be confused as to certain aspects of the story or word use there-in. This ‘end note’ is to help better understand such things. Also, if you skipped all the reading up to this point just, you have wasted your own time. Just saying.

During my time fiddling around the internet, often I find a lot of ‘futanari’ stuff. The word itself (ふたなり) is of odd origins. Clothing in Japan as well as some other odd things could prove problematic to dissociate certain genders from certain areas. As such body checks were semi-common to prove that it was not actually a male disguised in female clothing or vice versa. It has been postulated that from these came rumors and then tales of people associating with both genders. Likewise, until around the 1800s actors could be men dressed as women. Or rarely, women dressed as men. All to portray a part in the act. Another thought when considering the term is that some Japanese deities are portrayed in different genders depending on the story. Much like the many avatars of Vishnu. The most physically evident version I could find was called a Dōsojin (道祖神, road ancestor kami). They are a type of Shinto kami popularly worshipped in Kantō and neighboring areas where, as tutelary deities of borders, they are believed to protect travelers and villages from epidemics and evil spirits. They are often represented as a human couple, by carved male or female genitals, large stones or statues, or even tall poles along a road. (but I do digress). Futanari also can be spelled ( 二形, 双形, literally: dual form and 二成, 双成, literally: [to be of] two kinds). Ergo, a hermaphrodite.

This got me thinking about the variety of genders out there today and how the popular theme in fiction is to depict a girl with ‘extra bits’ (as the story goes). I asked myself, what if the opposite could be said in this odd story. A man with a woman’s packaging and a woman with a man’s plumbing. It would make sense as the word can mean ‘of two kinds’.

Now getting to the stuff. (Sorry this is taking longer than I thought). As with most yokai, there was a traumatic or disastrous event that occurred which in turn spawned our main character. There is no definite time to say when Maki was definitively ‘born’ but it is highly probable it was around the Battle of Ishibashiyama (1180) or the Kamakura earthquake (1293). Maki is born from a Dosojin-type shrine in the Kanto region (what would be known then as Tōkaidō (東海道), literally, "eastern sea circuit" or "eastern sea region"), exactly how or why is unknown. As such Maki keeps the "Futanari" (ability to change appearance/gender) aspect of the Dosojin origin as well as a kind of wanderlust that comes from Maki's origins as a road kami/spirit. Maki’s gender is generally split between two forms she-male (a-typical futanari) and he-female (what is termed ‘cuntboy’), though I tried to make a point that Maki can freely manipulate his/her appearance. In short, Maki is a nigh-immortal shapeshifter and master swordsman with additional untold powers deriving from his/her nature as a Dōsojin.

Likewise his swords are also yokai. Hence I treat them as individuals in the story rather than just referring to them as objects (sword, uchigatanna, wakizashi, etc.). Kin Slayer was "born" or "crafted" shortly after (most likely by monks or priests to combat foul spirits) one of the many catastrophes (natural, war related, and economic) that beset Japan in the early 1400s. Most likely some time before or during the Onin War (1467-1477). ‘Pot of poisonous snakes’ refers to a saying ‘throw poisons (fill in ‘snakes’ ‘insects’ etc.) into a pot, the one that remains is the deadliest’. Kin Slayer is the epiphany of this and why Maki mentions that she ‘killed her family’; both literally and figuratively. Any sword or knife made of the same method, practice, and time as her would be considered ‘family’. She has since cut down each one. Kin Slayer is the last.

Neck Biter is the youngest, only being a few decades old as he is in the form of an Uchigatanna. Said type of sword was introduced in the fifteenth century. The Uchigatanna became popular as a sword in the Muromachi Period of Japanese history (1336 to 1573). That being said, Neck biter is ‘younger’ than the other two by several hundred years. Though being a Uchigatanna, Neck Biter is stronger than the average sword because of his yokai nature. I haven’t really figured his backstory out. I didn’t really intend to go further into depth with this story so I have only lingering thoughts. Sub notation: after the Tachi was phased out as a mainline sword, it became traditional to wear swords with cutting edge up at the side.

Near the end of the story when Maki says “would you like me to tell your their names?” he means “would you like me to introduce them?”. I cannot say that but it’s supposed to be the same thing. Sorry if nobody got that.

Now for our adorable and pitiable trap Mitsuko. The further back in history one goes the younger adulthood becomes. Marie Antoinette got married to the king of France at 19. Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette married at 14 to the then 12 year-old Adrienne de La Fayette. It may seem weird but pair that to the life expectancy of the day and age. One would be fortunate to reach such an age. Ages of adulthood varied in Japan over the years. There were never very many “true” ages of adulthood. For some it was as soon as they could do real work or when they learned the family business. 15-17 was the age used by artesian during the Muromachi Period (1338–1573) and so I will be using that as some reference.

Mitsuko is 18 years old because I wanted a consenting adult of modern standards and has likely been in servitude to the Kagemajaya since his childhood. Indebted servitude was a common reason for many brothels having workers. Said life expectancy for the prostitutes if they were of low rank was short. It would be a surprise to reach the age of 30 without dying due to some action or disease. Mitsuko was born into this malicious environment and is sure to harbor feelings of resentment because of it. Resentment can lead to hate and hate (to suffering) to an eternal grudge. There is a reason two or three noted yokai are thought to originate around brothels. The ōkaburo, kejōrō, and taka onna are just a few examples. Maki’s haiku (it does not translate properly into a Japanese haiku, sorry) is meant as a warning curse if the boy turns into a yokai (which I tried to imply that he will):

 _Hell’s hate born in blood._ (A yokai is born from the vengeful or resentful or otherwise ‘dark’ aspects of nature and therefore life in general)

 _When Humanity’s faith ebbs still._ (A person becoming a yokai due to loss of faith or hope, submitting to the dark desires and inclinations. Such a person would be emptied of their humanity and become part of the darkness that eats at them. A ghost or shell of their former selves, yokai.)

 _Hope forever dies_. (Final decisions bring consequences. To become yokai does have some advantages. However, the loss of humanity also is a great tragedy. Becoming a being of darkness means the abandonment of light.)

If Mitsuko as a yokai becomes too much of a problem then Maki will hunt him down with Kin Slayer and end him. Karmic consequences sort of.

At some point I wondered about yokai in the modern setting and how some anime/manga portray that topic. I also wondered if Maki and Mitsuko, if he turned into a yokai, would survive into the modern age. Mitsuko could perhaps last in the modern age but I really did not think too deeply about his character. He might stand out if he stayed in one place for too long.

For Maki, blending in is a specialty. A yokai like Maki that can change shape/appearance however they please could last well into the modern age. Personally Maki has no hungers or cravings that need satisfaction other than the occasional hook up or bloodletting. One could easily see him/her as a history teacher or kendo instructor for a Japanese school. Maki’s greatest weaknesses are Kin Slayer and Neck Biter. Kin Slayer would be more than satisfied by killing a few yokai who cause trouble for Maki or those around him. Neck Biter could be sated by taking contract jobs or participating in battles over the years. However, this would be a stop gap rather than a certainty. Maki has a high chance of surviving into modern times but how he/she positions him/her-self would be critical.

Other things to explain, when I say “bearing the name of the lightning god himself” I mean rai (雷, "thunder") as a character is in his name, not the actual full word Raijin (雷神?). Joseon is the name of Korea from 1392 into the 1800s. I do not personally know what the Japanese referred to the Koreans at the time but given the context of history it was not pretty. So in light of this I just added a hyphen and men to the end of "Joseon" to give it a displeasing sound. The ‘Supreme Commander’ that Maki refers to near the end is none other than Nurarihyon himself. A Yokai in the form of an old man who garners the respect of all others. And the ‘parade’ is the night parade of one hundred demons. Legend has it that the leader of the yokai, Nurarihyon, leads yokai through Japan every year on a summer night. Any who come across such a macabre and odd spectacle will either perish or be spirited away.

 

 

 

(P.S.)-

If anybody from the LGTB community reads this, please understand this is fiction. All terms are used without malicious thought or intent. Personally, I am not an expert in gender-given terminology. I do not mean to insult or otherwise harm others with my words. I only wanted to share this story with others that they may enjoy it.

 

(P.P.S.)-

Any who want to email us or lend us their opinion, please write a review or send us an email at [Tyffon3Arry@gmail.com](mailto:Tyffon3Arry@gmail.com) or go to our tumblr page, <https://dunesofblack.tumblr.com/>. Both Vizgoth and I would appreciate any feedback or critique or opinion.

 

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> Trust me, you all will thank me later  
> -D


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